


Firsts

by giantess



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Cartinelli Week, Day 2: Firsts, F/F, Ficlet, Food mention, One Shot Collection, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:45:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4551006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantess/pseuds/giantess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Angie and Peggy's firsts for Cartinelli Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Also at my tumblr [here](http://wahaygentcarter.tumblr.com/post/126428065014/the-first-time-peggy-catches-angie-trying-to-lick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Peggy catches Angie trying to lick her own elbow.

Peggy has a habit of sneaking, something that she picked up during her time in the war, and in the Griffith. It’s a habit she has yet to conquer, even living in the mansion. Because of this, Angie doesn’t hear Peggy passing the room. Face crunched to a point between her eyebrows, she strains to move her elbow towards her mouth. Her tongue is poised at its length. A good two inches stand between the tip of her tongue and the edge of her elbow.

Peggy coughs loudly, standing in the doorway with her arms folded. Angie swivels. 

‘Problem?’ Peggy asks with a smirk.

Arm still held towards her face, tongue slightly slackened but still poking between her lips, Angie stands still. Slowly, she drops her arm to her side and retracts her tongue. ‘How long have you been standing there?’

‘Long enough.’

There’s a passage of silence before Angie speaks again, ‘Gal at the diner says it’s impossible to lick your own elbow; I wanted to try it out.’

Peggy rolls her eyes and turns to leave.

‘It’s harder than it looks!’ Angie calls. Peggy shakes her head.

  


Later, as she’s preparing for bed at her dressing table, she spares a look towards that tempting point. She rolls her eyes and sighs with resignation. Peering over her shoulder, she makes sure the door is sealed shut before she tries it.

  


‘It can’t be done,’ Peggy says at breakfast.

‘You tried it, didn’t you?’ Peggy doesn’t say anything. Angie smirks.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Peggy comes home drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also at my tumblr [here](http://wahaygentcarter.tumblr.com/post/126435256392/the-first-time-peggy-comes-home-drunk).

Something about the tone of the phone makes Angie know that there’s going to be trouble. She picks up the receiver cautiously. A cacophony of voices crackles down the line. She pulls the phone away from her ear, wincing. Peggy, lounging on the couch halfway across the room, can just about hear her name buzzing from the phone.

‘I think it’s for you, Pegs.’ She passes on the phone.  


‘Hey, Peggy,’ Peggy recognises the voice of Dum Dum Dougan. Other voices mingle in the background. ‘Come out with us tonight, we’re only here until tomorrow.’

The responsible thing would be to politely decline, after all, she would be working the next morning. Instead, Peggy finds herself saying, ‘One drink. That’s it.’

Of course, it doesn’t stop at one drink.

  


The first thought that Angie has when a great crash sounds from the hall is that they’re being robbed. She curses Peggy for going out, and pulls the baseball bat from under her bed. (The practice of keeping a weapon handy began with her mother; the woman had a swift swing.)

When she hears the foul string of “bollocky-wank-shite”, she sighs, rolling her eyes. Dressing down hanging loosely on her body, she emerges from her room with the bat hanging at her side.

Peggy is kneeling, swiping her hands along the floor. A silver tray lies next to her. Scattered about her are the scones that Jarvis had dropped off earlier that day. Peggy stares up at Angie, eyes wide. Slowly, she lifts one up and raises her her hand towards Angie.

‘Scone?’ She slurs.

Angie rolls her eyes. She lets the baseball bat rest against the wall and moves to help Peggy stand. 

‘No, my scones!’ Peggy whines.

‘It’s time for bed. I’ll get you some more in the morning, assuming you’ll be able to eat anything at all.’

Peggy obliges, stumbling forward and straight into a wall. 

‘Jeez, English, how much did you drink?’

‘What are you, my mother?’

‘Be glad I’m not,’ she takes her by the arm, and directs her down the hall, ‘If my mother caught me in a state like yours I’d be lucky to see daylight again.’

‘What, are you going to punish me?’ Peggy leans against her, breath catching against her cheek.

Angie recoils as much as she can without letting Peggy go. ‘Okay! Let’s get you to bed, right now.’

‘Let’s go,’ Peggy charges ahead, pulling herself out of Angie’s grip. Angie trails behind her, pleading with her to be careful, to mind that table, watch the step. 

They make it to her room without (much) incident. Peggy flops across the bed, face-down, legs dangling off one side of the bed.

Angie sighs. Who knew that Peggy could be this much of a pain in the ass?

‘Pegs, you gotta lie properly.’ Angie rolls her on her side, then shifts to pull her shoes off. She’ll have to deal with sleeping in her clothes, because that’s a line that Angie’s not willing to cross tonight. She pulls the covers over her with some difficulty; Peggy is a lot heavier that Angie first assumed, and is not very compliant as Angie tries to tug the covers from under her.

She tries to leave, but a hand grasps hers. ‘Come to bed, darling.’

Shaking her head, she moves back towards the bed, kneeling by Peggy’s face. Her eyes are barely open. ‘Honey, I’m gonna get you some water and a bucket in case you decide to puke up whatever it is you’ve spent the afternoon drinking.’

She moans something like a thank you, then nuzzles the pillow. When Angie returns with the water and bucket, Peggy appears to have passed out.

  


‘Angie, I am so deeply sorry.’

Angie glances up, taking a sip of her coffee. Peggy is standing in the doorway, clad in last night’s clothes. 

Angie looks back to the paper. ‘Sounds about right.’


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time Peggy catches Angie stress-baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also at my tumblr [here](http://wahaygentcarter.tumblr.com/post/126442939582/the-first-time-peggy-catches-angie-stress-baking).

Peggy jolts awake. She takes a few moments of heavy-breathing to come back to herself, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. She swallows hard and sits up. The clock on the bedside-table reads three in the morning.

She slips out of bed, wraps herself in a dressing gown, and heads out of her room. It’s been a while since she last found herself splashed awake by bad dreams; she had almost gotten used to the restful nights. Wandering the mansion, she runs her hand along its walls. There always seems to be a new room for her to find.

A light glows ahead, creeping between the crack of the kitchen door. Peggy tenses, slowing her steps. She creeps forward and peers around the door. Seeing only Angie, dressed also in nightwear, she sighs. She opens the door fully, letting it creak.

Angie spins around, eyes settling on Peggy. ‘Oh, sorry, Pegs, did I wake you up?’

Peggy shakes her head. Over Angie’s nightwear is an apron dusted with flour. ‘What are you doing up?’

Angie turns back to the counter. ‘Baking.’

Peggy nods towards the clock on the wall. ‘A little late, don’t you think. Or early.’

‘I couldn’t sleep. When I’m stressed, I bake.’

‘The audition tomorrow?’ Angie nods. Peggy approaches Angie, wrapping her arms around her middle and resting her chin on her shoulder. ‘You’ll be spectacular, you always are.’

Angie squeezes Peggy’s arms, leaning into her. ‘I hope so.’

The stand like that for a moment, swaying slightly. Peggy takes a sniff. ‘It smells good. When will they be done?’

‘You getting impatient?’

‘You know I love your baking.’

‘I did notice that.’

‘Cake, then bed?’

‘Good plan.’


End file.
